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SERMON 



IN COMMEMORATION OF 



D A N I p] L WEBSTER, 



DELIVERED IN CAMBRIDGE, 



ON SUNDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 21, 1852, 



BY REV. WILLIAM! A^ STEARNS. 



Noster hie dolor, nostrum vulnus. 



BOSTON AND CAMBRIDGE : 

JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY. 

1852. 



E34-0 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, bj' James Munroe & Co., 
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



JOB* FORD AST) CO.. PRINTKai), 
CAXBRISOBPORT. 



Cambridgeport, Nov. 22, 1852. 
Ret. "William A. Steakns, 

Dear Sir, — The undersigned, having been appointed a Committee for that 

purpose, respectfully solicit your compliance with the desire, very generally 

expressed by the Congregation, that you will furnish for publication a copy of 

the Discourse, delivered yesterday morning, on the Life and Character of 

Daniel Webster. 

Very respectfully, 

WILLIAM FISK, 

T. B. BIGELOW, 

AMBROSE CHAMBERLAIN, 

AARON RIC^, 

JAMES ATWOOD. 



" Magno in populo cum ssepe coorta est 

Seditio, saevitque animis ignobile vulgus; 
Turn, pietate gravcra ac mentis si forte virum quem 
Conspexcre, silent, arrcctisque auribus adstant. 
Ille regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet. 

" Lucem redde tuse, Dux Bone, patriae ; 

Instar veris enim, vultus ubi tuus 
Affulsit populo, gratior it dies, 
Et soles melius nitent." 

'• Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth / 

alone ; but if it die it bringeth forth much fruit." 



SERMON. 



GENESIS 50: 10. 

AND THERE THET MOCRN'KD WITH A GREAT AND TERY SORE 

LAMENTAT10>f. 

The patriarch was dead. Joseph and his brethren 
and his father's house, the servants of Pharaoh, the 
elders of the court and of the country, chariots and 
horsemen, in all a very great company, went up from 
Egypt to Canaan to bury Jacob. And when they came 
to the threshing-floor of Atad, which is beyond Jordan, 
the funeral procession paused, and gave itself up to 
mourning, insomuch that the inhabitants of the land 
said " This is a grievous mourning to the Egyptians." 

A more than patriarchal mourning has just been wit- 
nessed among us. For depth of sorrow, for the numbers 
afflicted, for simplicity in the mode of expressing grief, 
the scenes at the floor of Atad give precedence to the 
recent scenes at Marshfield. There lay the great states- 
man of America, beneath the trees before his mouvsion 
door, in the silent majesty of death. That eye, which 
sometimes seemed as lightning from a thunder-cloud, 
was shut ; those lips, for wdiose accents millions have 
listened entranced, were stiff and motionless. The glow 



6 

had passed from his cheek ; the heart, whose throbbings 
was felt by nations, had become as a rock; and 
death reigned over the mortal man. No pageantry at- 
tended the obseqnies. No cannon, nor mnffled drum, 
nor tolling bells, nor ranks of soldiery, nor bands of 
music, nor ostentatious tears announced that one of the 
greatest of tlie earth had fallen. But there gathered 
around that reverend form thousands and thousands of 
afflicted hearts. All the morning they were coming in. 
Massachusetts was there, New England was there, the 
country was there. The hills around were blackened 
with multitudes coming in on foot — the roads were 
fdled and the valleys crowded with vehicles bringing 
mourners from near and from afar. Around the re- 
mains of the great man, in and about his dwelling, down 
the avenues, and over his grounds, thronged the crowd. 
Silence reigned ; sorrow was on every countenance ; the 
nation's heart stood still. Nature sympathized. The 
great tree, through whose thick summer foliage the 
departed was accustomed to gaze into the heavens and 
worship, drooped with its mighty naked branches to the 
ground. Two weeping elms, which the statesman had 
planted and named for his dead children, Edward and 
Julia, stood u\) like statues in tears. The forests and 
shrubbery, smitten with autumnal frosts, liad put on 
their mourning garments, and the sere leaves were 
<lropping on every side. Flocks of birds seemed to beat 
the air with heavy wing, as in sympathy with the occa- 
sion tliey passed over the place. The funeral services 
were distinguished for simplicity and solemnity. Two 



coal-black chargers drew the hearse, while the farmers 
in the neighborhood, with eyes full of tears, carried the 
pall. They left great Webster in the new tomb which 
he had recently prepared for his last resting-place, and 
went silently away. Was there no mom^ning but in 
Marshfield ? Was there a city, a town, a log cottage, a 
boat on our waters — w^as there a true American heart 
any where which did not bleed with its own and its 
country's grief? 

When a great man dies the people are called upon to 
pause and reflect. When his life has been interwoven 
with the history of his country ; when, manifesting sin- 
gular abilities, he has performed singular services ; when 
the existing height of national elevation could never, 
to human appearance, have been attained without him ; 
when at length he is summoned away from his earthly 
scene of action, it becomes his bereaved fellow-country- 
men to .review his life, contemplate his character, and 
render thanks to God for his powers and good deeds. 

Daniel Webster was born on the 18th of January, 
1782, and was seventy years old vdien he died. His 
lineage was of the hardy yeomanr}^ of New Hampshire. 
Nurtured in the healthful toils of an almost frontier 
farmer — in addition to the opportunities of a country 
school kept but a few weeks in the year — he was edu- 
cated with Bible and Catechism, by the counsels and 
spirit of a religious home. When about fifteen years of 
age he began to prepare for college. After a few 
months study in Exeter Academy and a few months 



8 

more in the family of Rev. Mr. Wood, of Boscawen, he 
entered Dartmouth. Having completed his course with 
respectability, though his term of study was somewhat 
interrupteil by the necessity of school-keeping to defray 
expenses, and having given many indications of splendid 
powers, he took the regular degree of Bachelor of Arts 
in his twentieth year. He united with the church of 
Christ at an early age, and at one time thought of enter- 
ing the ministry, but on the whole decided for the law. 
Having acquired the rudiments of his profession, by 
hard, though somewhat broken study, in 1804 he enter- 
ed the office of Christopher Gore, in Boston. He began 
to practise law in Boscawen in 1805. He removed to 
Portsmouth in 1807, where he remained an ornament 
of the bar nine years. \Yhile at Portsmouth, he was 
elected to Congress in 1812, and re-elected in 1814. 
Here he laid the foundations of his fame. In 1816, he 
removed to Boston. In 1818, he argued the Dartmouth 
College case which placed him in the iirst rank of his 
profession. In 1820, he was chosen a member of the 
Convention in Massachusetts for revising our State Con- 
stitution. The published minutes of that assembly do 
him honor. The same year, Dec. 22d, he delivered his 
address at Plymouth, on occasion of the second centen- 
nial from the first landing of our fathers. That master- 
piece of wisdom and eloquence, what school-boy cannot 
repeat many of its brilliant passages ? Need I rehearse 
the story of his life and achievements farther? The 
oration at the laying of the corner stone of Bunker Hill 
Monument; the eulogy on Adams and Jefferson; the 



great speech of 1830 on what was called Foot's resolu- 
tion; the speeches which followed, and, in 1832, over- 
whelmed the doctrine of nullification ; his services when 
Secretary of State during President Tyler's administra- 
tion ; — in reference to the northeastern boundary ques- 
tion ; in suppressing the slave trade on the coast of Af- 
rica; surmounting national difficulties of long stand- 
ing; opening important commercial relations with Chi- 
na; securing the recognition of the independence of the 
Sandwich Islands ; his agency during Mr. Polk's admin- 
istration in settling the Oregon question ; his almost 
superhuman efforts to preserve the integrity of the 
Union after the death of President Taylor and during 
the aoritations of the last few vears ; too;ether with 
recent achievements as a second time Secretary of State 
— all these are familiar to every intelligent citizen. His 
closing days, the strong man bowing himself beneath 
the blow of supposed ingratitude and the power of 
disease, his parting counsels, his sublime death, who 
needs information on these topics when the newspapers 
are echoing and re-echoing them through the land, and 
the providence of God is impressing them on the mem- 
ory in lines too deep ever to be erased. 

Let us look at some of the elements of that greatness 
which we are now contemplating. 

Mr. Webster was remarkable for penetration and 
comprehension, for analysis, clear arrangement and 
statement. He would fix his large powers on a subject 
as he fixed his large burning eyes upon an object He 



10 

\vould look into ii subject, look through it, look around 
it, master it. He would see it in its consequences ; and 
foretell the results of measures, and the future move- 
ments of society Avith an almost more than mortal pre- 
science. His comprehensiveness was as singular as his 
penetration. There are many who have ability to 
grasp the M'liole of a small subject, or some entire frag- 
ment of a great subject, but they cannot see the small 
subject in its great relations, nor the great subject in its 
remote conclusions. Like men in a thick fog, they see 
distinctly that which is just around them, but all is 
darkness beyond the narrow horizon of their vision. 
Hence, while they speak honestly, and their reasonings 
seem specious in certain limited directions, they con- 
stantly stumble where the consequences of actions are 
felt over a wide circle and extend into coming years. 
Thus some politicians can counsel well for a town or 
even for a state, supposing it to stand alone, who utter- 
ly fail when they seek the best interests of a nation. 
Mr. Webster had the power of seeing over a vast ex- 
panse, and in all directions, and far down the future, 
and forming conclusions in view of numerous circum- 
stances, clashing interests, and complicated relations. 

What he saw himself he could communicate to others. 
He would take the entangled skein in pieces and lay the 
threads in order. He would analyze a subject, separat- 
ing part from part, till every member and fragment 
stood hy itself; and then he would put the separate 
parts together in such simple arrangement that the most 
moderate understanding could see them in their con- 



11 

nections. What be saw clearly, he could express 
plainly. 

Many great thinkers are too deep for common appre- 
hension. Tliev think themselves into the thickets, but 
do not think themselves out of the woods again. They 
get only far enough to understand the matter obscurel}' 
themselves, and so express themselves obscurely to oth- 
ers. And some minds suppose thoughts obscurely ex- 
pressed to be great thoughts and their authors great 
men; simply because they themselves cannot under- 
stand them. Mr. Webster alwaA's thought himself 
through. His views became transparent to himself, and 
then in that plain English of which he was such a mas- 
ter, he would make them transparent to others. To 
make a difficult subject so plain that even a humble ca- 
pacity shall see no difficulty in it, this is one of the high- 
est triumphs of intellect. 

I think I have indicated the prominent element of 
Mr. AVelDster's mind. Its greatness did not consist in 
what superficial m(*n call genius — brilliant flights, bursts 
of splendor shot forth at will, great accomplishments with- 
out great efforts — tliough his imagination was powerful, 
and o>i an emergency he was never unprepared, — but 
it consisted in a power of fixed attention and concentra- 
tion combined with sound judgment applied to a subject, 
till he saw through, and all over it, and could bring it 
forth into luminous perception. 

Of course, he was a severe student. From bovhood 
to old age, he applied himself to books, to observation, 
to reflection. His mind was disciplined by classical 



12 

stud-e?. The influence of the Grecian and Eoman 
models is manifest in ahnost all his productions. The 
appropriateness of his classical allusions and citations 
has often been remarked. His recent address before 
the New York Historical Society shows how greatly he 
was indebted to the severe training of a thorough col- 
legiate course. A single quotation in that address, tak- 
en from Sallust and applied to the exiled Hungarian, 
then filling the land with his touching plaints, has 
brought tears, I doubt not, to the eyes of a thousand 
scholars. I cannot dwell on this point. Mr. Webster 
must have been a great man under almost any circum- 
stances ; but he never could have gone down to posterity 
as the compeer of Demosthenes, had he been ignorant 
of the Grecian and the Eoman masters. His intellect 
was also disciplined by the tough theorems of jurispru- 
dence, by the severe conflicts of the bar, and the habit 
of accurate investigation which the practice of law re- 
quires ; while at the same time his mind was enriched 
by a vast amount of general reading; God made him 
capable of becoming great ; Mr. Webster made himself 
what God designed him to be. 

You must add to his intellectual qualities a quality 
of heart. Mere intellect is hardly fitted for popular 
impression. He was a man of strong passions, colossal 
in emotion as well as understanding. Feeling impelled 
him to action. What he loved, he loved with all the 
strength of his great heart. He loved with a childish 
tenderness. You see his nature when a boy of fifteen. 
His flither then informed him of his intention to give 



13 

him an education. " I remember," says Mr. Webster, 
"the very hill which we were ascending, through deep 
snows in a New-England sleigh, when my father made 
known this purpose to rae. I could not speak. How 
could he, I thought, with so large a family, and in such 
narrow circumstances, think of incurrino; so ffreat an ex- 
pense for me. A warm glow ran all over me. I laid my 
head on my father's shoulder and wept."* Ilis nature 
is seen in the gigantic emotions with which he struggled 
when called to part with his children ; in the love which 
he often expressed for surviving kindred ; in the affec- 
tions of his dying hours ; in his keen sensibility to the in- 
gratitude of his fellow-men. With these intense feelings 
did he love his country ; next to his Creator, I know 
not that he loved anything so well. This free country, 
the Union, the Constitution, were regarded by him w^ith 
a veneration and affection approaching worship. Love 
of country was an element of his greatness. I speak of 
it here only in this respect. It is greatness itself It 
brings out greatness. Setting great motives before the 
mind, it stimulates to great actions. To Mr. Webster, it 
was an inspiration. It glowed in his soul, gave eloquence 
to his speech, and made toil in the service of patriotism 
a pleasure. 

Let us now look at some of the products of that won- 
derful mind. Of the published works of Mr. Webster, 
we have several large volumes. He has not, like Cicero, 
written numerous treatises in retirement. But like De- 
mosthenes nearly all his productions are the result of 

* Biographical memoir by Edward Everett. 



14 

liis interest in great legal questions and public affairs. 
Looking at these works merely as the fruits of the hu- 
man mind, as we would look at the works of Homer 
or Shakspeare or Lord Bacon, — and so as of value to 
other countries and to all ages, — there is nothing in 
the English language which surpasses them. They are 
models of their kind for all time. Strength of intellect, 
concentration of thought, propriety of arrangement, 
perspicuity- and power of expression, and a certain noble- 
ness of sentiment characterize them. His appeals are 
addressefl, not usually to the passions of men, but, like 
the Grecian orator, to their honor, their sense of justice, 
their resrard for rio;ht and truth and the interests of the 
countr}^ He seems to breathe, when he speaks, in the 
pure, bracing mountain air of duty. There is sublimity 
and majesty in his mental movements, and an elevated, 
healthful spirit ia almost every paragraph. 

The impression made on the mind by different writers 
is various. Some interest, but excite no reflection ; some 
infuse discontent ; some deaden, rather than quicken the 
moral sensibilities, and some drag the mind downward, 
instead of inspiring right emotion. An author's spirit 
seems to linger about his words and impart itself to 
them who read. The writings of Mr. Webster are 
always elevating, always invigorating. We seem con- 
scious of intellectual expansion in studying them. They 
exalt the mind, and stimulate to great efforts and patri- 
otic deeds. Towering and sublime, they stand before 
us like the monument at whose base their author more 
than once addressed the world. 



15 

Viewed in this light, let us thank God for such a mind 
and such fruits. Worthy to be studied by all nations 
and in all ages, they are especially adapted to the edu- 
cation of American youth. Thousands of school-boys 
know many passages of them by heart, and tens of 
thousands in future days will repeat these words of 
power. They will be studied as models of parliamentary 
address, juridical demonstration, and fervid oratory^ 
They will have an almost unbounded influence on com- 
ing times. 

And I thank God that the youth of this and of future 
generations will imbibe from these writings no scurrility, 
no infidelity, no moral impurity, no irreverence towards 
the Creator and the Sacred Scriptures. Most of them 
are not, indeed, strictly speaking, religious writings; 
they are not on strictly religious subjects, but they 
abound in just sentiments concerning duty, and exhibit a 
profound veneration for the Ruler of all. 

One passage on the power of conscience is terrific. It 
may be found in the opening paragraphs of the Knapp 
case. It begins with the words, " He has done the murder. 
No eye has seen him nor ear has heard him. The secret 
is his own, and it is safe. Ah, gentlemen, that was a dread- 
ful mistake. Such a secret can be safe nowhere. The 
whole creation of God has neither nook nor corner where 
the guilty can bestow it and say that it is safe." The pas- 
sage is too long for quotation at this moment. But as 
showing the horrors of conscience there is nothing in 
Macbeth superior to it. I know nothing in the lan- 
guages of men surpassing it. The closing paragraph 



16 

of that tremendous plea is less terrible, but hardly less 
sublime. Urging the jury to bring in a verdict accord- 
ing to their sense of duty, he says, " With consciences 
satisfied with the discharge of duty, no consequences 
can harm you. There is no evil that Ave cannot either 
fiice or ily from, but the consciousness of duty disre- 
garded. 

" A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omnipresent 
like the Deity. If we take to ourselves the wungs of the 
morning and dwell in the utmost part of the seas, duty 
performed or duty violated is still with us, for our hap- 
piness or our nliser3^ If we say the darkness shall cover 
us, in the darkness as in the light our obhgations are yet 
with us. We cannot escape their power nor fly from 
their presence. They are with us in this life, w411 be 
with us at its close ; and in that scene of inconceivable 
solemnity Avhich is yet farther onward, we shall find 
ourselves surrounded by the consciousness of duty, to 
pain us Avherever it has been violated, and to console 
us so far as God may have given us grace to perform it." 

Similar thoughts may be found, though for the most 
part briefly expressed, in almost all the Avorks of Webster. 
His profound regard for the Sacred Scriptures Avas often 
manifested. On one occasion he had an opportunity in 
the Avay of professional duty, to express his sentiments 
on the Christian religion and its institutions at consider- 
able length. Most sacredly was that opportunity im- 
proved. Stephen Girard, a man of vast Avealth, had be- 
queathed a great sum of money to the city of Philadelphia, 
in trust, for the establishment of an Orphan College, from 



17 

which special instruction in Christianity^, and the minis- 
ters of reUgion of all denominations should be excluded. 
Mr. Webster appeared as counsel, before the Supreme 
Court of the United States, in opposition to the will, on 
the ground that such a bequest is no charity, and therefore 
cannot legally be held as such. The plea is really a plea 
for the Christian ministry and the religious education of 
the young. In it he brings powerfully to view the existr 
ence of God, the immortality of the soul, responsibility in 
another world for our conduct in this, the divine authority 
of the New Testament, of which, says he, referring to the 
words of Dr. Paley, " a single word from the New Testa- 
ment, shuts up the mouth of human questioning, and ex- 
cludes all human reasoning.'' '• In no case," he says, "ac- 
cording to the law of England, a man that has no belief 
in future rewards and punishments, for virtues or vices, 
is allowed to be a witness, twr ought he to be." He quotes 
w^th approbation the words of John Foster, in which he 
insists that the minds of children ought early to "be taken 
possession of by just and solemn ideas of their relation 
to the eternal Almighty Being ; that they may be taught 
to apprehend it as an awful realit}* ; that they are per- 
petually under His inspection ; and as a certainty that 
they must at length appear before Him in judgment and 
find in another life the consequences of what they are 
in spirit and conduct here." 

I shall present one or two passages more, though of 
considerable length, not only as showing the man, but 
for the sentiments which thev contain. 

" My learned friend has referred with propriety to one 
3 



18 

of the commandments of the Decalogue ; but there is 
another, a liist counnandment, and that is a precept of 
rehoioii, and it is in subordhiation to this, that the moral 
precepts of the Decalogue are proclaimed. This first 
great counnandment teaches men that there is one and 
only one great first Cause — one and only one proper 
object of human worship. This is the great, the ever 
fresh, the overfiowing fountain of all revealed truth. 
Without it human life is a desert, of no known termina- 
tion on any side, but shut in on all sides by a dark and 
impenetrable horizon. Without the light of this truth 
man knows nothing of his origin and nothing of his end. 
And when the Decalogue was delivered to the Jews, wdtli 
this great announcement and command at its head, what 
said the inspired lawgiver ? — that it should be kept from 
children ? " Mr. Girard would have no religious instruc- 
tion given to a child till he was eighteen years of age — 
till, indeed, he had left the walls of the Girard College. 
" That it should be reserved as a communication fit only 
for mature age ? Far, far otherwise. ' And these words 
which I command thee this day, shall be in thy heart. 
And thou slialt teach them diligently unto thy children, 
and shall talk of them when thou sittest in thy house, 
and when thou walkest b}^ the way, when thou liest 
down and when thou risest up.' 

'' There is an authority still more imposing and aw- 
ful. When little children were Ijrought into the 
presence of the Son of God, his disciples proposed to send 
them away ! but he said ' Suffer little children to come 
unto me ' — unto me ; he did not send them first for les- 



19 

sons in morals to the schools of the Pharisees or to the 
unbelieving Sadclucees, nor to read the precepts and les- 
sons phylacteried on the garments of the Jewish priest- 
hood ; he said nothing of different creeds or clashing 
doctrines ; but he opened at once to the youthful mind 
the everlasting fountains of living waters, the only source 
of immortal truths ; ' Suffer little children to come wito 
me' And that injunction is of perpetual obligation. It 
addresses itself to-day with the same earnestness and the 
same authority wliich attended its first utterance to the 
Christian world. It is of force everywhere and at all 
times. It extends to the ends of the earth, it will reach 
to the end of time, always and everywhere sounding in 
the ears of men, with an emphasis which no repetition 
can weaken, and with an authority which nothing can 
supercede — 'Suffer little children to come unto me.' 

" And not only my heart, and my judgment, my belief 
and my conscience instruct me, that this great precept 
should be obeyed, but the idea is so sacred, the solemn 
thoughts connected with it so crowd upon me, it is so ut- 
terly at variance with this system of philosophical moral" 
ity which we have heard advocated, that I stand and 
speak here in fear of being influenced by my feelings to 
exceed the proper line of my professional duty." 

I ought to quote the whole of this admirable argu- 
ment to do it justice. It was a case whose decision Mr. 
Webster felt, to use his own language again, " is to in- 
fluence the happiness, the temporal and the eternal wel- 
fare, of one hundred millions of human beings, alive and 
to be born in this land." But I will select only one pas- 



20 

sage more. In it he expresses liis extreme disgust for this 
idea of ^vithllolding rehgious instruction from children 
till they are eighteen years of age. " Why sir, it is vain 
to talk about the destructive tendency of such a system, 
to argue upon it is to insult the understanding of every 
man ; it is mere, sheer, loiv, ribald, vulgar deism and infi- 
delity/. It opposes all that is in Heaven, and all on earth 
that is worth being on earth. It destroys the connect- 
ing link between the creature and the Creator ; it op- 
poses that great system of universal benevolence and 
goodness that binds man to his Maker. No religion till 
he is eighteen ! What would be the condition of all your 
families — of all your children — if religious fathers and 
religious mothers were to teach their sons and daugh- 
ters no religious tenets till they w^ere eighteen ? What 
w^ould become of their morals, their excellence, their 
purity of heart and life, their hope for time and eter- 
nity ? What would become of all those thousand ties of 
sweetness, benevolence, love and Christian feeling that 
now render our young men and young maidens, like 
comely plants growing up by a streamlet's side — the 
graces and the grace of opening manhood — of l)lossom- 
ing womanhood ? What would become of all that now 
renders the social circle lovely and beloved ? What 
would become of society itself? How could it exist ? " 

Pardon this length of quotation. I wished to show 
you the man w^hose writings are to be the study and ad- 
miration of our youth in coming times, and the spirit 
which was at the foundation of those writings, and which 
often breathes its fragrance through the dryest argu- 



ments and most abstract subjects. How different the in- 
fluence of such works, from that of some who stand high 
on the scroll of our nation's history ! I will not name 
them. Let their words and works and memories, so far 
as they are unhallowed, perish together. 

I pass to consider Mr. Webster's more direct services 
to the country. I wish to contemplate them religiously^ 
and their author, as raised up by the God of our fathers 
to perform them. 

God, my hearers, is the author and arbiter of na- 
tions. By Him each people, as an organized many-mem- 
bered whole, has its design. I approach this fact with 
sensibility and awe. I seem to see the Omnipotent on His 
throne and the ages rolling by at His feet. He founds 
and brings forward each dynasty, kingdom and power, 
in its turn. Communities dash against each other, and 
all is confusion and bloodshed below, but order and 
beneficence reigns above. In all the workings and coun- 
terworkings and oppositions of states and nations, in the 
onrushing of millions, in their defeat and retrograde, the 
Almighty is working out His own results. If this is 
taught by reason, thus do the Scriptures certainly repre- 
sent the matter. Not only was the chosen people or- 
ganized and miraculously sustained for a divine purpose, 
but the same is true of all the kingdoms of the ancient 
world. God puts himself at the head of them, makes 
them the subjects of prophetic announcement, brings 
them on and conducts them off the stage at pleasure. 
The Syrian, the Babylonian, the Median, the Persian, 



22 

the Grecian and the Roman powers are especially desig- 
nated as risino' and oroino; down according; to his pre- 
arrangements. They act their several parts in history, 
and then give place to their snccessors, preparing the 
way for that Heaven-descended Kingdom which is to 
cover the Avhole earth. 

In working ont these results God also raises up men 
for the times. He raised up that Pharaoh in Egypt 
whose name is mentioned only with dishonor. * Among 
the Persians, He raised up Cyrus; among the Greeks, Peri- 
cles and Demosthenes; among the Romans, Cicero. For 
our Saxon fathers. He raised up Alfred. To England, in 
modern times, He gave Milton and Cromwell. To the 
old Hebrew Commonwealth, Moses. To the Middle Ages, 
Charlemagne. Eor us, in the times of extremity. He 
brought forward Washington. From His hands, we have 
received, in our own day, great Webster. Three special 
times he saved the country, and three special times 
he was himself almost miraculously preserved for its 
salvation. 

Looking back on the past we see everywhere God 
in histor}^ In every political organization and revo- 
lution. He had his purposes. By us He would seem to 
present an example before the world of a great, in- 
telligent, self-governing people. Among us he would 
bring man to his true manhood, and by the power of 
knowledge and religion, universally diffused, and by 
the benign effects of a free constitutional government, 
prepare the way for a fraternity of nations and individ- 
uals, to be all one in God. In aiding this object, He 



23 

raised up, I doubt not, that great light whose sudden 
eclipse we now lament. It was his special mission to 
sustain the Constitution of his country, defend the 
Union from rupture, preserve the nation from domestic 
and foreign war, promote the spread and prosperity of 
the people, and by his justice, magnanimity and intel- 
lect, honor free institutions in the view of mankind. 

Some people look upon government as a matter en- 
tirely apart from religion. But to one who enters on its 
duties with right feehngs, I know of no work more 
sacred. The preaching of the gospel is indispensable, 
nothing on the whole is of so much importance ; but 
the statesman who acts in the fear of God has some- 
times power to do that for the advancement of societv, 
in a few years, which, as a private minister of religion 
he could hardly have accomplished in centuries. I am 
not accustomed, therefore, to look on the government of 
nations as a mere worldly employment. Nothing, if en- 
gaged in with right views, can be more sacred. Some- 
what in this light, the subject seems to have been re- 
garded by our deceased statesman. Next to the sacred- 
ness of inspiration, I am told by one who knew his pri- 
vate, as well as his public life, " he approached no written 
thing with such awe as the Constitution; and never 
spoke on the great themes which affect the government 
and the nation except with solemnity." In this light of 
conscientiousness, of patriotism, of sacredness, I am ac- 
customed to contemplate his leading acts. Allow that 
he made mistakes, dissent as strongly as you will from 



24 

his opinions, provided 3'ou dissent intelligently and 
honestly, you will not deny that God raised him up as a 
benefactor to our nation. 

I cannot enumerate Mr. Webster's services to the 
country. They extend over a period of nearly fifty years. 
But when the doctrine was broached that any State had a 
constitutional right, for reasons which it might deem suf- 
ficient, to withdraw from the confederacy, and when 
this political heresy had been promulgated with great 
passion and power of plausible argument and consider- 
able success, it was Webster's intellect which broke the 
hostile forces. He expounded and defended the Consti- 
tution, enlightened the country, and secured its verdict 
in favor of inseparable Union, and saved us from a train 
of disasters which might have lasted for centuries. 
When, in 1842, we were on the verge of a war with Eng- 
land, when difficulties of long standing and complicated 
character had defied the diplomacy of successive admin- 
istrations, and now seemed insurmountable — when irri- 
tation, recrimination and mutual menace and the raising 
of armies betokened what was coming, and blood had ac- 
tullay begun to flow, it was Webster's statesmanship which 
brought order out of confusion, allayed the passions of 
opposing nations, and gave the country an honorable 
peace. When, again, on the accession of Mr. Polk to 
the Presidency, the Oregon question took a turn which 
seemed to render w\ar with England, a second time, 
inevitable it was a letter of Mr. Webster, then in private 
life, addressed to Mr. McGregor, of Glasgow, and by him 



25 

communicated to Lord John Russell and Lord Aberdeen, 
Avliicli induced Her Majesty's Government to make 
those proposals for settlement, ^vhich constitute the 
Oregon treaty, and which enabled the London Ex- 
aminer to say, that Mr. McGregor had "preserved 
the peace of the Avorld." Again, when, iii conse- 
quence of a vast accession of new territorj^, which 
accession Mr. "Webster, foreseeing the fearful agita- 
tions that must follow, had earnestly opposed, the 
pillars of our Union were shaken, and violent out- 
breaks and a fratricidal war was at hand, it was Mr. 
Webster, more than any other man, who secured the 
passage of measures whicli saved the country. 

I am well aware that different views are taken of the 
propriety of his course, in reference to what are callel 
the compromise measures. Some have looked upon him 
from that moment as "little less than archangel fallen." 
I have been pained to read in a religious news- 
paper such sentiments as these. "The Mr. Webs ev 
whom the nation mourns is the Mr. Webster of his- 
tory. Let us say that the last of young America's 
great triumvirate died before the ides or rather the 
calends of March, 1850. For what award of sober his- 
tory in coming time will not say that on the seventh of 
that month, the great statesman, who had stood in the 
Senate and the forum as the champion of liberty, truth, 
and principle, never bending to expediency, never 
vieldino; to motives of selfishness, never distrusting the 
authority or the triumphant power of right, was no 

more ? " 

4 



26 

If it be true that the Ethiopian can no more change 
his skin, or the leopard his spots, than they who are ac- 
customed to do evil can learn to do well, is it probable 
that " a champion of liberty, truth and pinciples, never 
bending to expediency, never yielding to motives of 
selfishness, never distrusting the authority or the trium- 
phant power of right," till he is almost three score years 
and ten, should be suddenly converted by a backward 
process, into something worse than we are willing to 
name ? We may have our opinions of the expediency 
and of the justice of those measures. But that Mr. Web- 
ster intended to do the very best thing which, under all 
the circumstances, he could do, few that know his charac- 
teristic honesty will doubt. The public men most pro- 
foundly acquainted with the critical state of our affairs 
at the time render the most emphatic testimony to the 
wisdom and patriotism of his conduct on that oc- 
casion. A vast majority of the citizens of the United 
States have adopted his view as moderate, conciliatory, 
and constitutional. The highest courts have stamped it 
with the seal of their judicial sanction. At all events, 
when his course has been approved by such men of piety 
and patriotism as the late Prof Stuart, of Andover, and a 
thousand others of the highest principle and intelli- 
gence, — men not in political life and not to be sus- 
pected of selfish motives, — a little charity in comment- 
ing on his acts might be pardonable. 

If Mr. Webster had any idol, that idol was his coun- 
try. He loved it with the whole strength of his heart. 
He saw in the Union a blessing to mankind. He saw 



27 

in its rupture disgrace and misery at home, and the 
eclipse of rising nations abroad. It was his oft-repeated 
prayer, " that when his eyes should be turned for the 
last time to behold the sun in heaven, he might not see 
him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of 
a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, 
belligerent, on a land rent with civil feuds or drenched 
it may be in fraternal blood." He was willing to 
make any sacrifices, personal or sectional, which he 
thought the public safety required. 

In this last assertion you see the motives of his con- 
duct. And I thank God, my brethren, for raising up such 
a man. His deeds and words live after him, and their 
influence will be felt for centuries. His pleadings for 
the Union which have been sounding in the ears of 
twenty millions of people, especially since 1849, and 
who are the representatives of one hundred millions 
soon to inhabit this soil, will strongly bear up the dome 
of our Union, and prevent it from falling in awful frag- 
ments on our heads. 

Some may think less of this service than I do. Some 
may even delude themselves with the opinion that there 
is no danger of a rupture, and others may imagine it a 
tolerable evil should it come. But I look upon the idea 
of disunion, my brethren, with horror. When I think 'of 
such an event as possible, I seem to see the spectral 
hand holding forth its prophetic roll. As it opens 
before me, it " is written upon within and without, and 
there is written therein lamentations and mourning and 
woe." 



28 

The dissolution of this Union, — I know not another 
probable catastrophe so clreadfiil. We have read of the 
evils which preceded its formation and made it neces- 
sary : disordered finances, business in confusion, confi- 
dence destroyed, estates ruined ; the contempt of foreign 
powers; jealousies among ourselves which imperiled 
the country. We have witnessed the prosperity which 
followed. Never since our earth emerged from chaos 
has the sun looked down on such rapid advancement. 
Within little more than half a century, the nation has 
risen to a height of glory beyond what was reached, 
taking all things into consideration, by Eome or France 
or England, after ages of growth.* Nothing seems to 
hinder the United States, if true to themselves, from 
soon standing at the head of the nations. I mean the 
head not merely in territory and wealth, but in moral 
influence, and in everything which constitutes the eleva- 
tion and happiness of a community. But let the blind 
Sampson of disunion, grasping the pillars of our Consti- 
tution, bow itself in the midst and bring our political 
fabric to the ground, and there 

'= Will be a voice of weeping, which shall drown 
The roar of waters in the cry of blood." 

What should we gain ? Nothing, positively nothing. 
There is no probability of our gaining anything to any 
true interest in the land. The colored race, it seems to 
me, would gain no more than the white. The area of 
slavery would be increased rather than diminished 
by the process. And where would be our na- 
tional influence among the powers of the earth? 



29 

Our commerce would lose its protection, our 
finances would be thrown into disorder, our en- 
terprise would be crippled, education and religion 
arrested; the conversion of the world put back, I 
have no doubt, a hundred, if not five hundred years. 
Abroad, it would no longer avail us to say, as we now do 
proudly, "I am an American citizen." At home, our 
States would dash against each other in confusion. We 
should attempt new Unions — but in vain. We should 
confederate and be broken, and confederate and be 
broken. Border wars would be interminable. Blood 
would never cease to flow. In the fearfid languao-e of 
Scripture, " Ave should be cast into the wine-press of the 
wrath of God, and the blood would come out of the 
wine-press unto the horses' bridles." 

Tell me not that the many kingdoms of Europe live 
side by side, in independent sovereignties, and maintain 
a balance of power between themselves. Has not their 
present measure of security cost them centuries of 
anarchy and milhons of lives, and standing armies, and 
a burthen of debt that crushes the people into remediless 
poverty ? The kingdoms of Europe maintain a balance 
of power among themselves ! Yes, and every moment 
the balance wavers! — A breath turns it — and what 
then? 

The idea of living peacefully, under such circum- 
stances, is preposterous! He talks hke a boy, who 
says there would be no need of civil strifes among us. 
Could our thirty stars move harmoniously in their ap- 
propriate orbits, when the great central principle of 



30 

gravitation had been destroyed ? No, there would be a 
storm in our heavens, and a shipwreck of the stars. 

This is not all. The hopes of the people throughout 
the civilized world, are directed towards this country. It 
is the grand depository of free thoughts, free principles, 
free institutions. The overthrow of this government 
would be the triumph of despots, and the destruction of 
the hopes of millions. 

I know that there are evils connected with our com- 
pact which every friend of humanity must deplore. 
Time and forbearance and wise legislation and the 
progress of the Gospel and the Providence of God, an- 
swering prayer, I trust will remove them. But the 
knife of amputation rashly used will destroy the body 
politic, from which they are at present inseparable. 

No one of our statesmen has seen the dangers of the 
country and the consequences, if those dangers were not 
averted, with such penetration as Mr. Webster. He had 
been for half a century in the councils of the nation. 
He had been particularly consulted, on great national 
questions, and his help had been invoked by nearly if 
not quite every administration, whether Whig or Dem- 
ocratic, since Munroe's. He had come to feel not only 
a great love for the country, but a measure of responsi- 
bility felt by no man since Washington. He could not 
think of a possible break up amongst us except with the 
deepest emotion. He gave the whole of his vast 
energies to the work of seeing that the Eepublic 
received no detriment. If ever a man was sincere on 
any subject connected with the government, I believe 



31 

Mr. "Webster to be sincere in this. "I own I have 
a part to act," said he, in his 7th of March speech, 
"not for my own security or safety. I am looking 
out for no fragment on which to float away from the 
wreck, if wreck there must be, but for the good of the 
whole and the preservation of the whole ; and there is 
that which will keep me to my duty during the strug- 
gle, whether the sun and the stars shall appear or not 
appear for many days. I speak for the preservation 
of the Union." He spoke ; and being dead yet speaketh 
— and his words will bind our States together, I hope, 
till the heavens are no more. 

It has been objected to Mr. Webster, that he was con- 
scious of his greatness. But how can a man be truly 
great, and not be conscious of it ? Was he not great ? 
Not to know the actual facts of one's own character im- 
plies weakness. Nor is there much more virtue in 
thinking one's self small if he is really great, than in 
thinking one's self great when he has but insignificant 
abilities. The same Scripture which tells us* not to 
think too highly of ourselves, tells us to think soberly 
and as we ought to think. If Mr. Webster thought of 
himself soberly and as he ought to think, he could not 
imagine that he had but a single talent for which to 
give account. 

But they say that he was not only conscious of great- 
ness, but seemed to demand acknowledgment of it. If 
this charge carries an idea of personal vanity, I 
know not a distinguished individual in history more 



32 

free from it. His bearing was noble, it was sublime, 
but there was no self complacency, much less vanity in 
it. If the charge implies only a desire to be estimated 
according to worth, in other words, to be appreciated, 
such a trait of character is to be commended, not censured. 
I see it in that pattern of modesty, our great Exemplar. 
There is no merit in running one's self down, or in 
declining to take those positions in society for which 
God has designed us. On the contrary, can a good 
man, conscious of ability to be extensively useful, allow 
his talents to be buried, and feel satisfied ? His truthful 
nature not only requires him to be useM according to 
his powers, but craves to be estimated according to its 
value. 

Again, it is said that Mr. Webster was ambitious. That 
he desired, for some reasons, the highest position of influ- 
ence, I will not deny. Different men will estimate this 
desire differently. Some will be influenced in their judg- 
ment of it by the predilections of party, some by envious 
rivalry, and some by what they see in it through the mir- 
ror of their own selflshness. There are persons who have 
no idea of a possible disinterestedness in such circum- 
stances. But is the desire of supremacy necessarily vul- 
gar ambition ? Why does a father choose to be at the 
head of his own family ? Is it because he is ambitious ? 
And why, let me ask, with reverence, does the Creator 
take the highest place in the universe ? Is there any- 
thing in Him which has affinity to ambition? Why 
should not a good man, conscious of ability to perform 
great services for his country, desire the opportunity ? 



33 

Suppose an individual remarkably qualified to fill the 
highest office in the land ; suppose him to be fully 
aware of his peculiar fitness for this trust ; suppose 
him to love his country, its reputation, its prosperity, 
its happiness, with all his heart ; suppose that he sees 
dangej^ threatening the nation, and trembles lest 
rash hands and unwise counsels destroy it, — should 
such a man desire to hold the helm of government, 
must he be set down as ambitious ? I profess not to 
judge the heart. But wiiile I can imagine so good a 
motive for aspiring to the headship of the nation, I 
cannot and I will not attribute the desire of such a 
patriot and of such a man to mere vulgar ambition. 

Mr. Webster was pre-eminently a national statesman. 
He had never been a member of any State legislature, 
except for a small part of a single term. Strongly 
attached to the j)rinciples and measures of the North, 
a Whig in spirit and political affinities, his mind 
towered above sectional circumstances and party 
influences. While he sacredlv protected the rights of 
the States, he saw the glory of the country in 
the Union. As a national man, he won the honor of 
being the expounder and defender of the Constitution. 
He uniformly and religiously sustained all its guaranties 
and compromises. To the North he was the champion of 
freedom ; in his conduct towards the South he was the 
embodiment of justice. Though connected with a party, 
no man has shown himself more independent of party. 
Without swerving the breadth of a hair from his integrity 
and his " recorded opinions," we find him putting forth 



5 



34 

the strength of his greatness, when the country's good 
demanded it, in sustaining the leading measures of an 
opposing administration. On another occasion, he main- 
tains his position as Secretary of State, at the hazard of 
his popularity, and with the loss of many friends, that 
he might accomplish, at whatever sacrifice to hiijjself, a 
great work for the nation. Since that time, even more 
than before, no man that ever hved on our soil has ever 
pleaded for the whole nation with such fervor as he. Not 
a national statesman ? Who but a national statesman, 
proud of his great, free country, could ever have written 
the Hiilsemann letter ? Where is there in our entire 
history a distinguished man who grasped the whole 
Union in his affections with more strength and tenacity ? 
Were we called upon to present to mankind a repre- 
sentative of our national institutions, a personal em- 
bodiment of the great ideas of the United States, I 
know not whom we could select for this end, if not 
Daniel Webster. 

Mr. Webster, as might be expected where the press is 
free and party spirit runs high, has been the object of 
much calumny. I will not excite your indignation by 
repeating so much as one of the infamous ribaldries 
which unprincipled news-mongers have circulated con- 
cerning him. Never has a public man in this countr}^ 
been so calumniated, and never, in respect at least to 
his public life, — high-minded enemies being judges, — 
with so little reason. Mr. Calhoun, for many years a 
political opponent, bore testimony before his death to 
Mr. Webster's integrity and honor as a politician and a 



36 

patriot. That same gentleman, however, allowed liim- 
self, many years ago, in the excitement of debate, to 
insinuate that something might be said derogatory to 
the patriotism of his antagonist, "«/* Unie had alloivedr 
Mr. Webster indignantly repelled the libel, and chal- 
lenged the distinguished Carolinian to search his whole 
life through, and find aught if he could which deserved 
this accusation. He then added, " Sir, I am glad this 
subject has been alluded to in a manner which justifies 
me in taking public notice of it; because I am well 
aware that for ten years past, infinite pains has been 
taken to find something, in the range of these topics, 
which might create prejudice against me in the country. 
The journals have all been pored over, and the reports 
ransacked, and scraps of paragraphs and half sentences 
have been collected, fraudulently put together, and then 
made to flare out as if there had been some discovery. 
But all this failed. The next resort was to supposed 
correspondence. My letters were sought for to learn if, 
in the confidence of private friendship, I had ever said 
anything which an enemy could make use of With 
this view the vicinity of my former residence has been 
searched as with a lighted candle. New Hampshire has 
been exjolored from the mouth of the Merrimack to the 
White Hills. In one instance a gentleman had left the 
State, gone five hundred miles off, and died. His papers 
were examined ; a letter was found, and I have under- 
stood it was brought to Washington and examined; a 
conclave was held to consider it, and the result was, that 
if there was nothing else against Mr. Webster, the mat- 



36 

ter hail better be let al( ne. Sir, I hope to make every- 
body of that opinion who brings against me a charge of 
want of patriotism. Errors of opinion can be found, 
doubtless, on many subjects; but as conduct flows from 
the feelings which animate the heart, I know that no 
act of my life has had its origin in the want of ardent 
love of country." This w\is in 1838; what would the 
old statesman have said, if he had poured out his heart 
on the subject of detraction, at the close of his days in 
1852 ? 

The sanctuary of his private life has been invaded, 
and foul masses of slander heaped upon him. And for 
what cause ? It was not done by way of retaliation, 
railing for railing. Mr. Webster treated his opponents 
with justice and urbanity. I doubt if another instance 
can be found of a man in public life for fifty years, so 
free from the sin of recrimination, unjust insinuation, 
and anything approaching towards dishonorable per- 
sonalit}'. What then was the cause of all this abuse ? 
Allow that the great statesman had his faults. Were 
they more glaring than are found in many public 
men whom the million applaud? Faults there may 
have been, but why were they so monstrously exagger- 
ated? Why were legions of calumnies fabricated? 
The cause of this abuse lies deeper than the frailties of 
its victim. The cause, as I conceive it, was pre-eminent 
greatness, which stood in conspicuous view to receive 
the shafts of envy. The cause was a stern integrity, 
which the office-seeking and the self-seeking could not 
bend, a principle of patriotism and justice, which the 



37 

unscrupulous could no more break clown than they 
could overthrow the everlasting granite pillars among 
which he was born. The cause was a certain awful 
majesty of character, before which petty politicians, wdio 
loved self rather than country, cowered. The cause 
was a power of intellect and a power of influence which 
demagogues and partisans knew they could conflict 
with only by revilings. These were so industriously 
circulated, that the unsuspecting said there must be a 
foundation for them ; and in some instances men re- 
peated their ow^n falsehood till they believed their own 
lie. These are causes of calumny to which public men 
everywhere, and especially in this country, are increas- 
ingly exposed. 

The crime of slander cannot easily be estimated. It 
originates in a certain meanness of spirit, or in an un- 
manly love of gossiping, or in that calculating rascality 
which destroys character for selfish ends. In its influ- 
ence upon the calumniator himself, scarcely any sin is 
more demoralizing. It petrifies benevolent sensibility; 
it stimulates those vicious feelings which, when fully de- 
veloped, make men haters of their kind. It is the cause 
of incalculable suffering to its victim; it takes away 
that which a high-minded man values more than prop- 
erty, and without which life is a burden. To the more 
susceptible, its shafts are not unfrequently the arrows of 
-death ; and the strong writhe under them with pangs to 
which bodily pains are in comparison a relief. Hopes 
are blasted by slander. The energies of men acting for 
the public good are often crippled by it, and their 



38 

days made wretched. Public detraction is the great 
sin of the times. The country is full of it; men 
get their dishonest living by it ; it comes to the inno- 
cent in a shape which cannot be met by testimony or 
argument, and put down ; it comes without a responsible 
name ; it puts its victim to the often impossible task 
of proving a negative ; it lurks in the dark — it multi- 
plies itself into legions ; it is here, it is there ; it hides 
when you approach, and appears again as soon as you 
are gone. And there is no hope for the man on whom 
it falls but in his conscience, and in living it down. It 
is a sin wiiich has no excuse. Worse than sins of the 
flesh, for it comes from the centre of a man's being ; 
worse than the oftence which it alleges, because it has 
no strong temptation, — I look upon it as infernal. The 
eagerness with which some gather up " stale and loathed 
calumnies," — "the cast off slough of a polluted and 
shameless press," — suggests the idea that, lil-Le certain 
ill-omened birds, it is their nature to feed on carrion. 

With regard to Mr. Webster, I have no means of de- 
ciding upon the character of his entire private life. I 
had a little acquaintance with him, though not enough 
for seli-complacency. I know something of the high 
reputation which he sustained at home. But to what 
extent he partook of human frailties, I am not the 
judge. The customs of society have greatly changed, 
in some respects, since his habits were formed, and he 
has usually moved in circles where a puritanical strict- 
ness is not always regarded as the prince of virtues. 
But when I remember that "publications more abusive 



39 

and scurrilous never saw the light, than were sent forth 
against Washington," and when I remember that One 
greater than Washington was charged with being "a 
gluttonous man and a winebibber, and a friend of pub- 
licans and sinners," I am not inclined to believe an evil 
report just because " Gashmu saith it." Nor do I think 
that a man who has faults is always radically a bad man. 
There are those who can see nothing in Abraham but 
his prevarication, nothing in David but the crime 
against Uriah, and nothing in Peter but his denial of 
Christ. And there are those, to use again the words of 
Mr. Webster, " who think that nothing is good but what 
is perfect. If their perspicacious vision enables them to 
detect a spot on the face of the sun, they think that a 
good reason why the sun should be struck down from 
heaven."^ There are such persons ; but, as a man en- 
compassed with infirmities, I do not wish to be of their 
number. Read the eighth chapter of John, and you 
will learn that the severest accusers are not always the 
purest in heart. I hold him forth for imitation only so 
far as he resembled that great Pattern, whom he himself 
so much admired and adored. 

Mr. Webster's private habits, I have said, I have no 
means of knowing in all respects. But his custom of 
early rising and hard morning toil — his clear, strong 
utterances of truth, always clear and always strong — his 
uniform observance of all the rules of order in the 
Senate chamber — his entire freedom from those per- 
sonal broils and bickerings which sometimes disgrace 

* 7th March speech. 



40 

the halls of legislation — his fine moral sentiments, 
indicating sensitiveness of conscience — his tender do- 
mestic aflections — his love of the Sacred Scriptures, 
M'hicli he read through once a year, and Avliich he 
declared to he the Book of Books, fitting us to 
live and fitting us to die — his profound veneration 
of God — his respect for the Sabbath — his habit of 
family devotion — his constant attendance upon public 
worshi]) — his early profession of faith in Christ, and the 
custom of Communion at the Lord's table — his tender 
love for little children, and the interest which he has ex- 
pressed in their religious education — his uniform pro- 
priety of speech, insomuch that a gentleman said to me 
at the funeral, '• I have been with him under all circum- 
stances. I have been wdth him at great parties and at 
little parties ; I have been often a fishing with him, 
and all over the farm, and I never heard him utter a 
profime word or an impure word in my life " — the fore- 
sight and calmness with which he prepared his own 
tomb in the old puritan burying ground overlooking 
the sea — his unabated intellectual strength, when three 
score years and ten — his parting words of affection 
and religious counsel to his friends — his last prayers — 
is all this like — I will not say what. It is like good- 
ness of heart ; it is like religion ; it is like himself who 
once said, " I woidd give all this world to be sure of 
standing, on the right hand before the judgment seat of 
Christ." 

Mr. Webster, I suppose, joined the Orthodox Congre- 
gational Church in Salisbury, New Hampshire, at an 



41 

early age, and died, I have no reason to doubt, in the 
faith of his fathers. He was not, however, a sectarian ; 
'• Depend upon it," said he, " that where there is a spirit 
of Christianity, there is a spirit which rises above form, 
above ceremonies, independent of sect or creed, and the 
controversies of clashing doctrines."^ He grasped 
the substance, not the shadow. So does every good 
man, however great his preference for a particular 
church. 

I once happened, in the common course of official 
duty, to preach before him. I remember his dignified at- 
tention and devout demeanor. I never shall foro-et the 
expression of interest with which he fixed his eyes upon 
me, as I quoted these words of that high-minded man, Sir 
Thomas More : " I judge it ten times more honorable for 
a single person, in witnessing a truth, to oppose the 
world in its power, wisdom and authority, this standing 
in its full strength, and he singly and nakedly, than by 
fighting many battles by force of arms and gaining 
them all. I have no life but truth ; and if truth be ad- 
vanced by my suffering, then my life also. If truth live, 
I live ; if justice live, I live ; and these cannot die ; but 
by any man's suffering for them are enlarged, en- 
throned." To these words his whole life seems to* say, 
Amen. 

I have detained you too long, but I must be par- 
doned. A wonderful man has just gone from us. The 
country has indeed been prolific of great men. Free 
institutions cherish them. But God has never raised up 

* Girard Case. p. 37. 
5 



42 

anion <x us but one Georiire Washinston and one Daniel 
AVebster. In common with thousands, I loved him; 
and if he had laults, '• with all his fiiults, I loved him 
still." I honored him; he had qualities of mind and 
lieart which drew me like a magnet. The dryest news- 
paper was full of interest, if it only contained a few 
words from Mr. Webster; and when any spoke unkindly 
of him. I felt it as a personal wound. 

Is there a person here who would not heartily unite 
with me. if I should now pause and render public thanks 
to Almighty God for the creation of such a man ? Are 
there not many who look back upon the hours- and 
days which they have spent in hearing or reading his 
words of power, as among the happiest portions of their 
life ? The idea of his great presence elevated them, 
and his s;ood deeds for the countrv called forth their 
prayers in his behalf To me, I confess, the world has 
often seemed as a more desirable scene of being, from the 
existence of that one mind in it, and there was always a 
melody in my heart, when 1 read a new speech from 
him. like that which is ever breathino; in the scholar's 
ear, from the best pages of classic antiquity. I thank 
God. not only for what that man has done in behalf of 
our country, not only for any intellectual improvement 
I may have derived from him, but for the kajjpiness 
which his life has afforded me. 

Mr. Webster is dead. That great mind which often 
pondered the problems of immortality now knows all. 
Wliat visions has it beheld! What ideas has it ob- 



43 

tained of that Omnipotent God whom it had often so 
profoundly worshipped ! 

Solemn reflections crowd upon us ; the great as well 
as the small must die. The great as well as the small, 
after death, must stand before the judgment seat of 
Christ. Of the great as well as the small. God will 
be the judge. For the great as well as the small, the 
rule of judgment Avill be the same. That rule was 
stated in the kst words of our Saviour, "He that 
beheveth shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall 
be damned." How affecting to hear our dying states- 
man exclaim, as his confession of Chrij^t, before the 
country and before mankind, " Lord I believe, help thou 
mine unbelief" It is good for us to see such a man 
humbling himself as a little child, that he may enter 
the Kingdom of Heaven. 

He is dead ! Three score years and ten, with, a life of 
incessant toil for the public, had shaken his frame. But 
I have no doubt that his death was hastened by sup- 
posed ingratitude, — 

" Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms, 
Quite vanquished him. Then burst his mighty heart." 

His heart was broken. Not that he died of disap- 
pointed ambition. Such a man as Webster die because 
he could not reach the Presidenc}^ ? ^— the supposition is 
too childish. He feared the consequences, should the 
government pass into hands unfriendly to his recent 
measures for the Union. But this was not it. He had 
spent a long life for the American people, and when at 
last in his old age, it was put to them, " Are you satisfied ? " 



44 

the American people said "No!" Then broke that 
niiii-htv heart. From that moment, it beo;an to beat 
tmniiltiious marches for the grave. No! it was not the 
American people who said it. It was the doctrine of 
availability. It was the admiration of military glory. 
He wore no bloody laurels on his brow. It was the 
vaulting am])ition of self-seeking politicians. This the 
patriot knew. " A false chapter," said he, " has been writ- 
ten in the history of the country ; " " The masses," said 
he, '■' are Avith us." But the masses are not usually the 
sj)eakers. To the question, "Are you satisfied?" the 
spokesmen of the people had said "' No ! " And it went 
echoing through the country and all over the world, 
"No!" — He retired to Marshfield; — he went out and 
looked at his tomb. 

No doubt the people loved him. On his way 
from Washington for the last time, as he approached 
the neighborhood of his puritan home, he had an op- 
portunity to see it. They came (nit from Marshfield 
and Kingston and Duxbury, and all the region about to 
give him a welcome. The young threw him flowers, 
the old gave him tears, the yeomanry stood round him 
and followed him. It was the homa"'e of his neio-h- 
bors — that touched him. When they came near the old 
mansion, the cavalcade stopped. "Are you not going 
down to the house ? " said Mr. Webster. " No," said 
one, " we thought we would go around, and not tear up 
your grounds." "Tear up the grounds," said Mr. 
Webster, " I don't care if you tear them up ten feet 
deep — you must go to the house." That was like him ; 



45 

always so hearty. On that day, he made his last speech. 
The next time his neighbors met him was at his funeral. 
Were not the masses with him ? That funeral day told 
the stor}^ And from that time to this, it has been 
nothng but a funeral day all over the country, and the 
mourning is as the mourning of Hadadrimmon. 

Rest, great sleeper, rest ! The Pilgrims in their dusty 
beds make room for thee. The spirits of patriots bid 
thee welcome. There is no rejection in the grave; 
there is no ingratitude in Heaven. 0, my coun- 
try, thou hast lost a father ! Write his counsels on 
thy heart. Thou hast had a Washington, thou hast 
had a Webster! God raise iip some other such, and 
we will confess even in their lifetime, that there are 
prophets among us. 



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